


Soft High

by willowcabins



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Drugged Sex, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcabins/pseuds/willowcabins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delphine suppresses the urge to cough, letting the feeling billow, and then subside, in her chest. She licks her lips experimentally, but feels no different than when she normally smokes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft High

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick thank you to Other Elisabeth (NOT Elisabeth 2) and Clark for proof-reading this. and this is dedicated to Lea (tumblr user beforeyougogo) SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG

She blows out the sweet smoke, watching it billow languidly towards the ceiling. Delphine suppresses the urge to cough, letting the feeling billow, and then subside, in her chest. She licks her lips experimentally, but feels no different than when she normally smokes. The smoke is thicker and it goes deeper. It starts a slow tingling in the center of her chest, and Delphine expects some monumental, immediate change.

It doesn’t come. Perhaps she is too old for pot to affect her? She remembers teenaged boys, not women balancing on the edge of thirty, smoking this. She swallowed more smoke, suddenly greedy.

Delphine knows about the biologically effects of the drug (the internet filled the very sizeable gaps in her knowledge late last night when she couldn’t sleep for fear of disappointing Cosima). Wikipedia was not very useful, but drugabuse.gov (ironically enough) gave her the _important_ details.

Cosima takes the joint out of Delphine’s hand and grins reassuringly. She takes a long slow hit, closing her eyes blissfully, breathing in and then letting the smoke billow out of her nose. Delphine tilts her head, fascinated, watching Cosima’s face in profile.

She waits patiently, fiddling with her lighter, rolling her thumb over the teethed wheel and watching the flame ignite with a jump. The flame dances, light and juvenile, until the hint of a draft snuffs it out. Delphine just stares at the glimmering silver, disappointed lodged like a ball in her throat.

Cosima’s eyes flicker open and she smiles at Delphine. She sits up on the bed and leans towards Delphine, her movements slow and deliberate. She cups Delphine’s face gently, her hand warm.

Delphine watches her, counting her own breaths per second. They don’t increase. They’re meant to increase, according to drugabuse.gov. Cosima grins at her; a lopsided smile, and Delphine can feel her heart responding; heavy thudding in her chest. Cosima’s warm finger tips trail along Delphine’s jaw line and Delphine grins into the touch: it tingles oddly, lightly, along her skin. Cosima takes another drag of the joint and then leans forward carefully.

“Breathe in,” she whispers, putting her own lips on Delphine’s. Her lips are warm and soft and Delphine complies. They perfectly compliment the smoke filling Delphine’s mouth. She runs her tongue along Cosima’s bottom lip playfully before she turns away and blows out the smoke. Cosima chuckles, her laughter low and echoing: _bursting_ in Delphine’s chest. Suddenly Delphine’s skin feels empty, _wanting_ and she moves forward to brush her lips, lightly, against Cosima’s. Cosima chuckles as her right hand curls around Delphine’s neck, pulling her closer and sliding her tongue into Cosima’s mouth. Delphine’s eyes flutter shut as she surrenders herself to the scene.

There’s a strange sensation on Delphine’s lips, a pleasant tickling that seems to infect her whole body and trail down her skin, collecting where Cosima’s hand is splayed on the nape of Delphine’s neck. The feeling is so intensely _mild_ and satisfying that Delphine wants to revel in it; feel it forever. They break apart, foreheads touching intimately, Delphine’s eyes still shut. Cosima’s left hand cups Delphine’s face: her eyes flicker open as Cosima’s fingers trace her lips, feather light, barely touching. Delphine’s body responds with electricity and molten heat.

“I like watching you when you’re like this,” Cosima murmurs, eyes flickering between lips and eyes.

“Like what?” Delphine murmurs, tracing the dappled light on Cosima’s cheek.

“More…I don’t know...free?” Cosima offers with a shrug, settling back against the headboard, slumped and relaxed. Delphine slides down on the bed, curling up so she can stare up at Cosima, watch her while the fabric anchors her, smooth against her face.

Cosima picks up her own lighter and relights the joint, smoking it serenely. Delphine tilts her head and watches the smoke rise from Cosima’s perfect lips up, until its grazing the ceiling, unencumbered by gravity. Delphine wonders about gravity and smoke: are the smoke particles drawn to the earth? Does the heat _drag_ them upwards? Delphine feels empathetic pain pulling at her joints, which feel oddly heavy, like she’s sinking into the bed, a cloud of smoke drawn back to the ground. Delphine focuses her attention back to the bed and traces the lines dips of the duvet carefully, wondering whether she could sink through the mattress to the feathers inside.  

Cosima watches her fascination with a smirk. Something makes Delphine realize she’s being watched; she can feel the warm glow of sight on her? Regardless, Delphine catches her eye and smiles, words heavy on her tongue as she tilts her head.

“Am I fun to watch?” She is surprised at the crisp clarity of her speech. Cosima laughs. Delphine’s lungs feel full of smoke, and suddenly the feeling of chocking twists in Delphine’s throat, but its paradoxically enjoyable; morphing into a comfortable glow in her esophagus. The glow seems to catch fire and travel down Delphine body, setting every cell alight. It’s a comfortable burning that threatens to consume her. Delphne imagines herself an inferno, set alight by Cosima’s smile, and the chocking feeling twists and expands. Cosima just tilts her head.

“You just look so rapt,” Cosima murmurs, words spilling from her lips, tinged with adoring mirth. Delphine watches Cosima’s lips forming the words and narrows her eyes suspiciously

“Rap?” She asked. “Like the fresh,” she stumbled on the word. “phresh?” She tried again. “Fesh?” she waved it off. “prince of bel-air?” The word ‘fresh’ seem to stumble across Delphine’s throat. Cosima laughed softly.

“Not _rap_ , but rapt,” she corrects herself, surprised at how hard it was to differentiate between the two words. “Rapt,” she repeats, “with a ‘t’ at the end.” Delphine still looks puzzled. “Like, caught in rapture,” she adds lamely.

“Rapture.” Delphine tries the word, letting it ghost across her lips quietly. She lickes her lips, and tastes the word, dancing like fire and ash across her tongue. Cosima giggles and Delphine shots her a crooked smile.

“I like the word!” She decided, shifting on the bed so she can better look up at Cosima.

“I can see that,” Cosima agrees. “I feel like you and that word are more than just friends.” Delphine tilts her head.

“What?” She stares up at bites her lip in the most sexy confusion that Cosima has ever seen. Her hair is haloed around her and she smiles, lip quirking up, pleased with herself. Cosima slides down the headboard so she, too, is lying on the bed and shifts closer to Delphine, tracing a hand down on the bare skin of Delphine’s arm. Delphine glances at her before she directs her attention back to the ceiling. Cosima just stares at her, taking in the finesse of her profile: her perfect nose, her slightly parted lips, the dip of her neck.

“I like you,” Cosima murmurs absently, watching the goosebumps that follow the path of her hand as it draws patterns in Delphine’s arm. Delphine’s breath catches as all the bubbles at the back of her throat explode into soft light and Delphine laughs again, delighted. She is so _happy_ : the light at the back of her throat tingles, Cosima’s hand creating electric sparks that glitter in the darkening room and Cosima’s dumb smile that seems to physically pull at something below Delphine’s lungs.

Her diaphragm. That’s what was below her lungs.

Cosima’s dumb smile that seems to physically pull at Delphine’s _diaphragm_. She likes how that sentence sounds in her head. She lets it roll through her mind, scratching, ever so lightly, at her thoughts, and smiles.

Cosima props herself up on her elbow and leans forward slowly, fingers tracing the outline of Delphine’s face. Delphine leans into the warm hand, eyes fluttering shut with a delicate sigh. Cosima grins and shifts closer, so she’s basically leaning over Delphine, her thumb tracing the outlines of her lip. Delphine playfully bites down on the pad of Cosima’s thumb; Cosima’s breath hitches and Delphine laughs, a husky, throaty laugh. Her eyes flicker open and she grins at Cosima.

“Your eyes are dark,” she murmurs.

“Yours are red,” Cosima replies; she means it to be sarcastic, but it comes out reverent. Delphine just laughs. She snakes a hand around Cosima’s neck to pull her down and kiss her again, brushing their lips together carefully, tentatively. She lets go of Cosima and grins. Cosima licks her lips and Delphine watches her, fascinated. Arousal slowly spread from her stomach as she suddenly remembers, in vivid detail, what that tongue can do to her. She grins and reaches forward to slowly remove Cosima’s glasses. She unhooks them carefully, first from the left and then the right ear, and folds them up and placed them on the side table, fumbling blindly. She pulls Cosima down again, delicately kissing her jawline, until she gets to the shell of Cosima’s ear, running her finger along it ever so lightly.

“I feel tingling,” she murmurs into Cosima’s ear.

“Those are the drugs,” Cosima murmurs, breath catching as Delphine nips the lobe of her ear.

“I think it’s you,” Delphine disagrees, kissing Cosima’s cheek lightly.

“Perhaps a combination?” Cosima suggests, shifting so her legs tangle with Delphine’s. Delphine pouts.

“No,” she disagrees stubbornly, pushing back one of Cosima’s dreadlocks. “That’s not it.” She decides.

“At all?” Cosima asks, smirking. Delphine’s eyes narrow in confusion, but she is distracted by the slight curve of Cosima’s lip. She anchors a hand at the nape of Cosima’s neck and pulls Cosima down again; rougher, more urgent this time. Delphine’s hand tilts Cosima’s head so her tongue can gain better access while her other hand slips under Cosima’s shirt, resting on taunt stomach muscles and reveling the warm feeling under her hand. Cosima’s stomach muscles contract and she gasped into Delphine’s mouth, pressing her body closer to Delphine. Delphine’s mouth leaves Cosima’s and travels down her neck while her right hand slips up to Cosima’s bare skin, lightly brushing against her left breast. Cosima gasps again and Delphine smirks against Cosima’s neck. She bites and sucks experimentally, surprised when Cosima moans and her hips buck against her.

Cosima straightens up, fully straddling Delphine now, and undoes the back lace of her own shirt. “Off,” she commands, tugging at Delphine’s shirt with one hand.

“I love it when you command me,” Delphine smirks, only half joking as she props herself up and reaches behind her neck to loosen the zipper for her shirt. Cosima tugs the silken fabric over Delphine’s head, pulling her bra straps down too slowly. Delphine unhooks it and Cosima throws them on the ground next to them, starting a blazing trail of kisses down Delphine’s chest.

Rationally, Delphine knows it’s the drugs. They make the experience so much more intense, focusing all the tendrils of sensation on Cosima’s hot mouth as it covers a nipple. The drugs make the urgent press of Cosima’s tongue against flesh so much more arousing; so much more _real_. She can’t help herself as she quietly alternates between whispered encouragements and quiet cries of approval as her back arches into Cosima’s tongue. (It’s the _drugs_ ). Her hands can’t find enough purchase in Cosima’s braids, so she grips the bed sheets instead, keening as Cosima’s hand travel down her stomach to where her jeans sit. Delphine’s hip bucks up expectantly. Cosima grins up at Delphine, abandoning her breasts to slowly undo Delphine’s fly.

“Merde,” Delphine hisses as Cosima lightly trails a hand down the seams of Delphine’s jeans. Cosima beams at her girlfriend’s distress.

“Need anything?” She murmurs her voice low with arousal and weed. Delphine looks down and gulps.

“Please?” She pleads, her eyes red and wide and her whole body _quivering_. Cosima’s breath catches in her throat; she pulls down Delphine’s trousers, suddenly unable to control her desperation for Delphine. Delphine lifts her hips off the bed helpfully. Cosima grins, hooking her thumbs in the underwear too.

“I love it when you wear sexy underwear,” she murmurs with a grin, pulling down the sexy lace. Delphine laughs breathily, transferring her hands to clutches the bars of her headboard.

“Good,” she gasps, barely able to assemble the sounds into one coherent word.

Suddenly it hits Cosima. Delphine is naked, for Cosima: dressing sexily, for Cosima; breathless with desire, for Cosima.

It is all too much. Cosima crawls back up Delphine’s body to cup her face and kiss her slowly. Delphine’s hips arch into Cosima’s thigh as Cosima arranges herself on top of Delphine again, wet heat against tights an urgent reminder of Delphine’s arousal. Cosima suddenly remember the sun, and heat, burning specific heat, tearing a whole into the fabric of the universe with its brute intensity.

“You remind me of yellow,” Cosima murmurs against Delphine’s lips, not sure exactly what she meant and too far gone to care as she presses her thigh into Delphine. Delphine gasps. Cosima shifts her weight again, and in response Delphine pushes herself against the pillow, her eyes are pleading. Cosima gulps at the sight.

“Yellow is _hot_ , right?” Delphine whispers back, her eyes focusing on the ceiling. “My skin feels very hot.” Cosima tries to smirk, but her tongue is thick against the roof of her mouth.

“That’s just me,” she promises; it’s meant to be sarcastic and witty, but it sounds rapt as suddenly all she can feel is Delphine’s _body_ tight between her thighs. She inches down Delphine’s body again to leave small, tender kisses on the flat stomach, sitting up and thus accidentally applying more pressure to Delphine’s pelvis. Her hips buck again.

“Only you,” Delphine agrees, her breath catching at the end of the statement. “Merde, Cosima,” she mutters, arching into the warmth of Cosima’s hand as it travels down Delphine’s inner thigh. Cosima settles herself down between Delphine’s thighs, leaving her warmth. She pushes Delphine’s legs apart gentle and kneels. She nips the begging of Delphine’s thigh experimentally, just above the crook of the knee, listening joyfully as it stops Delphine’s breath for a second. She tries again, slowly going higher and listening to Delphine’s breathing speeding up until she’s panting painfully fast as Cosima nearly reaches the apex. Delphine’s folds are wet and glistening, but Cosima watches with cruel pleasure as Cosima’s hot breath trailing over Delphine’s clit triggers cold shivers. Delphine grips the bed sheets with renewed vigour.

“Cosima,” Delphine pleads, intense frustration somehow conveyed perfectly as those two syllables roll off her tongue. Delphine’s hips arch in search of relief from the tight pain of arousal, and Cosima caves. She runs her fingers along the inside of Delphine’s thigh one last time, grinning as the feather light touch make Delphine tremble with want, before she sinks her fingers into the heat, rewarded with a long quiet moan that seemed to _pull_  at the very apex of Cosima’s being. She watches Delphine’s face contort for one second, before her own tight hunger suddenly overwhelms her. Delphine murmurs, an intense feeling of a thousand suns dancing along her skin, as Cosima’s fingers fall into rhythm with her panting, pushing her higher. Delphine squeaks when the heat in her core expands; Cosima drags her tongue up from her fingers, and then, somehow sensing the _exact moment_ , bends down and takes the little bud of sensitive muscele in her mouth. The heat, and the slight, subtle, sucking feeling make Delphine gasp against the white sheets, her whole body rigid with pleasure.

Delphine cums, and Cosima hums, pleased with herself. She doesn’t stop her ministrations, watching Delphine as her back arches and her mouth opens in a silent cry of approval.

“Cosima,” Delphine moans. Cosima watches the aftershocks travel down Delphine’s tense body and lets the contractions around her fingers still her hand. Delphine shakes lightly and Cosima grins impishly as she clambers up Delphine’s body again, fingers still anchored in Delphine centre. Delphine opens up her eyes slowly and grins at Cosima. Cosima slowly extracted her fingers and trailed them up Delphine’s body, wet path glistening low in the lamplight. Delphine captures Cosima’s hand languidly and slowly laces her fingers through Cosima’s, wet fingers a pleasant reminder. Delphine brings their clasped hands to her lips and lightly kisses the back of Cosima’s hand, not breaking eye contact.

“I like this drug,” she decides, comfortable grin spreading over her face. Cosima smirks.

“I hoped you would.”

 


End file.
